


The Arrangements

by neveroffanon



Series: hopes and dreams [4]
Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Martin is a manipulative asshole, Starts light but this is Prodigal Son after all
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:53:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23491228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neveroffanon/pseuds/neveroffanon
Summary: After a rough start in life and a chance happening that soon turns into a habit that he can’t quite seem to break, Martin Whitly finally catches a break and stumbles upon Jessica Milton.  If he wants to get away with what the world sees as immoral and dangerous, he’ll need a good cover.  What better cover than being married to the lone heir of the most well-regarded family in New York City?  Things go well, until Martin meets his match.
Relationships: Ainsley Whitly & Martin Whitly, Gil Arroyo/Jessica Whitly, Jessica Whitly & Nicholas Endicott, Jessica Whitly/Martin Whitly, Jessica Whitly/OFC, Malcolm Bright & Ainsley Whitly, Malcolm Bright & Edrisa Tanaka, Malcolm Bright & Jessica Whitly, Malcolm Bright & Martin Whitly, Malcolm Bright/Dani Powell
Series: hopes and dreams [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1661428
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	1. Party Like It’s 1989

**Jessica**

“Robena Danton, my goodness! That _cannot_ be you,” Jessica waved off Martin’s arm trying to steady her and wobbled her way to the other side of the store. It had been nearly three years without wearing any sort of heel whatsoever—Martin had insisted that a new mother didn’t and shouldn’t wear pumps— and here she was looking like a little girl wearing her mother’s shoes. She buried the embarrassment behind a smile.

Jessica approached, one hand fluffing her hair. She could feel her ears starting to burn red with heat, and that would not do. It was five years or more since they had seen each other last, and she was not going to be the one to let on first how that number was making the butterflies in her stomach dance. The woman turned around fully, a blousy dress hanging from one hand, eyes wide and confused. After another moment, where Jessica felt her heart jump, the crinkle between Robena’s eyebrows smoothed.

“Jessica Milton!” She smiled, slow and wide, dimples deepening in either cheek. “Where have you been girl?” Robena shoved the hanger back onto its rack with a noisy screech and reached out her hands. 

Jessica grasped them with her own, “Oh you know good and well that I’ve haven’t taken a single step outside of the city. I’m born and bred darling, and besides these day I have my two gents to wrangle into order. You know men, they love trying to keep us busy,” Jessica nodded over her shoulder toward Martin. He was bent at the waist, scrubbing Malcolm’s nose clean with a handkerchief. Jessica shook her head, smiling back at Robena.

Robena chuckled low and pulled her hands free to drape an arm around Jessica’s shoulders. “Keeping up with one son is nothing, Milton. You try having a boy _and_ a girl! The noise, the getting into everything, _their_ _hair_! I’m exhausted already and they’re not even four yet.” She pointed to where a lanky, youngish looking man, who had to be Marcus Swanson, sat next to two children taking turns jumping from lounge chair to lounge chair. As they watched, he sat for barely an instant, no sooner than he jumped to his feet, arms hovering protectively, trying to prevent the children from falling headfirst onto the floor. 

“They’re adorable Robena. Truly. My Malcolm,” Jessica sighed, “he’s such a quiet child. Mother told me that I was a terrible handful so I expected the worst, especially since he’s a boy and his father is rambunctious to say the least.” She leaned into her old friend and bumped her ribs with an elbow. “Now wouldn’t it be nice if your little ones had someone else to burn up all that energy with. They could be friends, just like we were.” 

Robena laughed brightly and voice lowering for a moment, she murmured, “Not quite like we were.” Jessica held back the little frisson of something that tried to work its way down her spine. “But, it would be nice to see each other more often. Especially now that Marcus and I have moved back from Washington.” 

“I can’t even remember how long its been since we caught up. I’m assuming you’re staying at the old house,” Jessica backed away a little, out of the warmth of Robena’s arm. “If you can find a nanny, we four could do dinner and reacquaint ourselves. What do you think?”

Robena turned to face her, eyes bright with amusement. “I think it sounds like a date, Milton.”

Jessica nodded, and leaned into to kiss Robena’s cheek. She lingered at her ear and murmured, “I’ll give you a ring tomorrow morning, and we’ll settle on a time.” 

They smiled at each, and Jessica turned away to look for Martin. She found them tucked away in the toys, Malcolm settled quietly at his side taking apart a train set. As she approached, Martin glanced up at her. 

“Did it go well sweetheart?”

“Of course,” Jessica lifted her hair off her neck and fanned herself, “Robena Danton is back in New York, and I’m the first one to snag dinner with her, and Malcolm will have some appropriate children to play with finally,” Jessica sighed, pushing her hair over her shoulder. “And you and I will start making inroads with everyone again.”

Martin stood slowly, eyes moving from her own down to her neck. A flush of heat settled low in her belly and tingled its way up to her face as Martin stepped close and wrapped an arm around her. Jessica looked around hurriedly, one hand shoving at Martin’s shoulder. 

“Oh relax. No one can see us, except Malcolm and he clearly doesn’t care,” Martin dropped a lingering kiss on her neck, and chuckled into her ear as she shivered. “I’m glad to help make inroads, Jessie, but I think you’ll probably have more luck if I’m not there to get in the way.”

“Martin!” Jessica closed her eyes and sighed before starting over. “Martin, my love, my sunshine, you know good and well that if you want to make it to chief, or past it, then you have to start talking to people.”

“And you know,” Martin pulled his arm away and settled on the floor next to Malcolm, “that what I want, I already have. I don’t have any grand ambitions, my dear. I want to take care of my family and make people’s lives a little easier. I don’t need to be the leader of the pack to do that.”

“It’s not about ambition. It’s about doing the most good, for the most number of people. To do that,” Jessica stepped toward him and ran her fingers over his hair, tucked a curl behind his ear, “you need power, darling.”

* * *

“Now, this evening is very important. We’re having dinner with my parents, Robena and Marcus, and both of their parents, and the children,” Jessica glanced down at Malcolm fiddling with his newest acquisition, a doctor’s black bag. He’d plugged his ears with the little stethoscope and was busily trying to hear his heartbeat through his hand. She sighed, shaking her head and plucked the end of the stethoscope away to place it over his heart. 

Martin and Malcolm both grinned at her, and Jessica worked to smother the smile that wanted to erupt in response. “This is serious Martin. We have to make sure that the children get along. We can’t have Malcolm ignoring the others just so that he can play by himself. They’ll think he’s not sociable.”

“Well, he is rather solitary little guy, but he plays with other children just fine when it suits him. And he’s three, so I think we have time for him to learn his party manners,” Martin shuffled past her, one hand pushing Malcolm in front of him. “Now you get your coat on, and I’ll get Malcolm strapped into his seat.”

Jessica groaned. He was insufferable. Unteachable. Completely unreasonable. 

“Madam, your cloak,” Lucrezia murmured at her side and Jessica turned, arms out, seething as the maid wrapped the cloak around her. “Thank you, Lucrezia. I expect we’ll be returning late.” 

“I’ll leave the lights on for you when you get back, and I’ll see you on Monday madam,” she replied. 

“Good night,” Jessica returned and strode for the door, ignoring Martin’s arm as he reached to help her into the backseat. “I’m quite well enough without your arm Martin Whitly.”

He ducked in after her, leaned against her shoulder as she checked Malcolm’s car seat. “Come on Jessie. I know to have my best manners on, I’m not that much of a heathen. I’ve been playing this game longer than you have, if you remember.” He flopped back on the seats. Her shoulder missed his warmth, but Jessica kept herself facing Malcolm.

“Age has nothing to do with it. And you were just buttering people up before. This is different. This is... this is creating a partnership.”

“Using our son.”

Jessica bristled and whipped around to face him, sputtered as her hair fell into her mouth. She brushed it away with a jerk. “We’re not _using_ our son. What we’re doing is making sure that our son has the best possible advantages. Advantages that the Swansons and Dantons can give him. They’re lawyers and judges, Martin. It’s never a bad thing to have a few of those in your pocket.”

“You must be regretting putting me in your pocket instead of any of your other hangers on,” Martin replied, voice edged and rough. He fell silent, and Jessica exhaled sharply into the quiet. 

“I’ll have you know,” she swallowed hard, throat suddenly tight, “unlike you, I knew exactly what I wanted from this marriage. I never wanted someone who was never going to fit in my pocket. I wanted someone brave enough to really love me. Who wanted to work with me to do some good in this city. Who didn’t just see me as a meal ticket.”

Martin cleared his throat, and shifted to face her. He looked her over, face utterly blank. “You don’t want me to fit in your pocket, but you’re intent on cutting away all my edges. You want to me to fit the mold, Jessica. And that will not do.”

“I’m not trying to dissect you! I’m trying to have you help me give our child what he needs to succeed in life. In this life. The life you got when you married me,” Jessica glanced away from him for a moment, feeling her stomach clenching in on itself. Steeling herself, she looked back at Martin and lowered her voice, “If you want out, you may as well say it. We’ve had almost ten good years, but I’m not going to change who am or how I think I can best protect our son just to not ruffle your sensibilities. This is his world, and he has to be ready to enter it.”

She turned to face the front of the car, fighting to keep her hands still and peaceful in her lap. Her ears were burning again, but tonight, she’d had the sense to wear her hair to hide them. One never knew when embarrassment would strike, after all. It was better to have taken an ounce of prevention, rather than suffer through a pound of cure. 

Martin’s hand landed on hers, and she jumped, throwing him a startled look. 

“You are the only woman that I could even bring myself to consider marrying Jessie. I don’t want out. What I want is for you to spend some time considering how all of this work you’re bent doing reflects on what you think of me. You don’t want Malcolm to struggle. Like his father. You don’t want Malcolm to live a friendless life, with no one to call on for favors. Like his father. You want Malcolm to walk into a partnership, a relationship, with a powerful set of in-laws. Like his father.”

“Martin, I—.” He raised a hand and placed a finger over her lips. 

“It’s alright darling,” he squeezed her hand, lightly. “You teach Malcolm what you think he needs to know to survive. You’re his mother, and that’s your right. You’ll just have to excuse me, when I do the same.”

Jessica blinked at him, bewildered. “I don’t know what that means...,” she trailed off. 

“I learned a thing or two, coming up the way I did. How to survive, when the chips are down, that sort of thing. Some things that your kind probably never had to learn,” Martin leaned over, pressed a kiss to her lips, silencing the protest she’d been about to make. 

“Now let’s just relax for the rest of this ride and get our game faces on, shall we?” He moved, slid his arm around her shoulder and pressed her close to his side. Jessica leaned against him, despite herself, one hand coming up to rest over his heart. 

“I am not trying to hurt you, my love. I just want Malcolm to be secure. What if something happens to us? I don’t want him to grow up with the cousins or only my parents as his influences,” Jessica shuddered. “He needs other people, good people, around him.”

“Well I certainly have no intention of leaving any time soon, and neither will you, not as long as I have anything to say about it.”

Jessica tilted a look up at him, heart finally slowing in its race to beat out of her chest. She’d hurt him. Enough for him to, for once, not make a single joke. She tucked herself as close as she could, throwing her arm all the way around his chest. She’d make it up to him. He would see.


	2. New Year's Eve 1992

**Martin**

There was a certain amount of pleasure to be gleaned from things like this, he supposed. From being a part of the in-crowd. The people in the know. But sometimes, when the gala went on too long, when the innuendos and the back biting got a little too frenzied, when the sidelong looks and whispers piled on like cars in an accident on the turnpike— Martin wondered if he’d made the right decision. 

At time like these, Jessie would appear, as though she could tell from across a room when his tolerance for the niceties was tanking. As though she knew that if one more person asked him about his parents, where he was from, and how he made his way through school, he might scream. She would sweep in, like a prettily curvy ship, gown fluttering like sails in her wake, make a cutting remark disguised as compliment, and the two of them would walk off. 

Tonight was different. 

This time her rescue came preceded by a tugboat— Nicholas Endicott. Another one of those old, dear chums from Jessica’s school days. Another one of those powerful friends that Jessica insisted they must be seen to do business with, if they wanted to keep what they had. 

“Dr. Martin Whitly,” Jessica stepped up beside him, nodding to old Mr. Goshead, probably the only sensible person in the room and the only one who could talk he could talk about the Yankees with at these things, and continuing to speak as her arm wrapped around his. “My husband. I know you two probably met at the wedding, but that was quite a while ago now, so I thought you ought to be re-introduced.” 

“Martin, meet Nicholas Endicott. He’s one of my oldest, dearest friends,” she squeezed his arm, smiled up at him. 

Martin extended his hand and shook the other man’s hand. Endicott didn’t bother going for that crushing grip some men that had wanted Jessica did. He smiled, polite, gave his hand a pump and dropped it. 

“A pleasure, Dr. Whitly. Chief of Surgery I hear,” Endicott spoke, his voice cool. 

“That’s me. In charge of all the monkeys playing with their tools.” 

“Well don’t discount yourself. I hear that you made chief in two years. Not just anyone can achieve the way you have.” 

Martin chuckled, glanced at Jessica, who raised an eyebrow at him. “I won’t take a bit of the credit. When you have patients as sick as we do in this city, you don’t have an excuse not to have good skills.” 

“Now that’s a surgeon talking,” Endicott grinned for a moment, his teeth almost blindingly bright. “That’s the kind of attitude we need more of around here. People who want to help, and are willing to do the work to make sure they can.” He paused for a moment, giving Jessica a considering glance, and then looked back up at Martin. 

“You know,” he stepped infinitesimally closer, “Jessica and I were thinking about how we could really do some good in this city. We thought perhaps we might be able to use some of that talent of yours for a little project.” 

Martin smiled. “Oh? You want the Cinderella story I’m guessing. Tell me where, and I’ll be glad to help.” He clamped his teeth together to hold the smile in place. 

“Oh. Well no. No we want to start up a pipeline of sorts. Set up some projects for kids who’ve got the minds but don’t quite have the money they need to get into the schools that can really help them with their careers. We want to shuttle kids from high school right into college. You’re known as a good mentor, a good doctor. A man with an eye for talent and with talent of his own. Think about joining us.” 

Martin rocked back, flicked a look at Jessica who had lowered her lids over her eyes. “I suppose I’m flattered, although I’m not at all sure that I have anything to offer.” Endicott reached over and took up his hand again, squeezing hard this time. “Everyone has something to offer. My talent is getting that out of them. Now, I’ll be in touch. But for now, let’s enjoy the evening.” 

He nodded at Jessica and strode off. 

Martin watched him, head tilted. 

“See what I mean about talking with the right people?” Jessica murmured, eyes still directed down and away from him. “When you make more friends, you do more good.” 

“Alright my dear. Alright.” He patted her hand, still watching as Endicott disappeared into the crush of people. “Looks like we’ll have our hands full soon. I’ll have to make sure that I contact him as soon as possible to arrange our meetings so they don’t conflict with my surgeries.” 

Jessica glanced up at him then, smile brightening her eyes and deepening the dimples in her cheeks. She flicked a look around them, then brought her lips to his ear. “A perfectly good decision deserves a perfectly good reward; don’t you think?” 

She pulled away and met his eyes again. Martin nodded at her and brushed her cheek with his hand. She leaned into it, and Martin wondered again at how he’d snagged her. She was so delightfully easy to please. He made to lean forward, intending to kiss her, when party horns began to blare. 

The countdown to the new year, 1992, had begun.


End file.
